


the birth of jesus (whoever he is)

by bs13



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, aka how la nochebuena helps kara realize she has Feelings, casual friendship to one sided love to MORE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 13:29:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21961345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bs13/pseuds/bs13
Summary: Last Christmas, Kara gave up on love. This year she has resolved to do the same—that is, until Lena Luthor happens.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 55
Kudos: 526
Collections: Supercorp Content Creators' Guild Secret Santa Exchange 2019





	the birth of jesus (whoever he is)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amaltheaz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaltheaz/gifts).



> surprise (maybe not so surprise) az! i’m your secret santa! 😘 i have to admit it was a daunting task to get you - you’re like my writing /idol/ so i tried my best,,, anyways i love you so very much, you are AMAZING & i’m forever grateful to you for letting me join this little family. AND MERRY CHRISTMAS 💕💞💕💞

On the twenty-fourth of December, Kara begrudgingly allows Alex to drive her to Sam Arias’s Christmas party.

Her one condition is she gets to pick the music. Alex lets her do it, but after Kara foregoes the radio and hooks up her phone to the aux cord, it only takes the first two songs for Alex to ask,

“Is there a reason you’re listening to ‘Last Christmas’ on repeat?”

Kara barely hears the question at first—she’s so caught up in the music—until Alex reaches over to flick her forehead and repeats it. Even then, all Kara can do is sheepishly remove the candy cane from her mouth and reply, “Because I’m sad and it’s Christmas?”

“You don’t even _celebrate_ Christmas.”

“Exactly! I don’t,” Kara says. “And now you’re making me go to a _Christmas party_.”

Alex rolls her eyes. “You agreed to this ages ago,” she says. “You can’t be pouty about something you told me, and I quote, is ‘not a big deal anymore.’”

“All of us cope in different ways,” Kara says mock-wisely—and to make Alex snort—before she turns up the volume on her phone. “Last Christmas” plays again three times before Kara charitably throws in one “Uptown Funk.” After that, “Last Christmas” gets to go on twice more before they finally arrive at Sam’s house.

Alex warns for Kara to be on her best behavior. Kara’s not sure if she should be offended or touched; clearly Alex cares about this girl a lot, if she wants Kara to make a good impression. (Also, Alex must have very little faith in Kara this time of year, apparently.)

Sam greets them at the door with a hug for Kara and a kiss for Alex. She’s pretty—Kara gives Alex a discreet thumbs-up when Sam isn’t looking. Alex gives her a swat to her shoulder for it, but she’s smiling too hard to make it count.

Inside, Sam’s house smells warm like cinnamon and coffee. “Drop your coats anywhere,” Sam says, ushering them into the living room. The room is decked out with tinsel and lights, but in a sleek, modernistic sort of way. The Christmas tree is a fake one with white branches, glowing with the smallest golden lights.

“Alex!” Ruby, Sam’s daughter, comes running up to hug her. In her haste, she knocks someone’s cup right out of their hands—and the cup’s contents all over Kara’s shoes.

“Ruby!” comes three different shouts: one scandalized scolding from her mother, one laughing exclamation from Alex, and one exasperated cry from the owner of the drink.

Ruby still gets her hug, but she twists out of Alex’s arms to throw an apologetic wince in Kara’s direction. “I’m sorry!” she says. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay,” Kara laughs it off. The spilled wine is currently soaking red into her socks, and it’s genuinely funny—and not a big deal, even if Sam looks horrified.

“I’m sorry, Aunt Lena,” Ruby continues, this time directed to the owner of the wine. “I can go refill your cup!”

“That’s alright, Ruby. It was an accident.” Lena Luthor smiles thinly over at Kara—likely as a way of sharing sympathy—before she offers to clean up the mess.

That’s the kind of person Lena is, really. Kara has met her dozens of times before, and she’s always liked Lena—has always liked her wry sense of humor, her manner of handling things. They’re friends in the simplest sense.

“I’ll help,” Kara immediately chimes in. It’s worth it just for the way Lena’s smile broadens.

So while Ruby and Alex catch up, Kara spends the beginning of the party wiping wine off the hardwood floor. Lena is there crouched beside her, and she accidentally tries to mop up Kara’s hand with her dishrag.

“What a way to say hello to each other,” Lena jokes, and Kara grins.

“Not the worst, though. Remember when I tackled you in the middle of a Walmart?”

“Yes, you got us banned from that location,” Lena snorts. “To this day I avoid Walmart stores like the plague.”

“It’s not _my_ fault you were wearing Alex’s beanie.” They finish cleaning, and Kara stands up to survey the work. “Hi, by the way.”

Lena shakes her head in amusement. “Hi, Kara,” she echoes laughingly. “Should we get a drink together to make up for this mishap?”

Kara considers this for a moment. “Why not?” she decides. “Tis the season.”

That garners another head shake, this one resigned. “Don’t make insufferable holiday jokes, please. I’ve already had to put up with Ruby’s.”

“But this is my one joy!” Kara pouts the whole walk to the kitchen in the hope that it will change Lena’s disapproving glare to acceptance. “You can’t take away the source of joy from someone who hates Christmas.”

“ _You_ hate Christmas?” Lena says. “No way. I refuse to believe you’re capable of hating anything, Kara.”

“I _do_ ,” Kara insists. “It’s a miserable time, if you think about it. All snowy, and commercial-y, and _sappy_ …”

Lena wrinkles her nose. “I feel like this is about more than Christmas.” She takes the liberty of pouring Kara a hefty amount of wine before getting one for herself. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Kara sourly takes a gulp from her plastic cup. “Let’s talk about something else.”

“Okay. Like what?”

“Like… the fact that you’re a regular Cupid,” Kara suggests.

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” Lena gives her a weird look, half confused and half suspicious.

“You know, since you’re the one who introduced Sam and Alex,” Kara says. “You’re a matchmaker.”

Lena purses her lips. “Not really…” she trails off. “The only reason Alex met Sam is because she showed up at my door when Sam was sleeping off a hangover.”

“Well, they still met through you,” Kara digresses. “You can take credit at the wedding either way.”

“Oh? Is that something Alex has hinted at?” Lena’s eyebrows raise in visible surprise, and Kara hastily clarifies,

“No, that was a joke—I wouldn’t know her, uh, intentions or anything.”

Lena relaxes a fraction. “That’s good,” she says, almost unthinkingly, because she justifies afterwards: “I don’t think Sam’s ready for that, is all.”

“No, yeah, I get it.” Kara hates herself for this topic, because now she’s spiraling thinking about Christmas and weddings and it’s a dangerous route to go. She has to swallow another gulp of wine to distract herself, but it’s not potent enough for the task.

“Kara?” A touch to her shoulder stops Kara’s next drink. “Are you…alright?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Kara tries to smile. She imagines it looks like she’s wincing instead. 

“You’re not usually a very heavy drinker,” Lena says. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“No, I don’t want to bother you, Lena,” Kara says, embarrassed, as she slowly sets her cup aside. “Sorry, I should—let you mingle. I’ll go find Alex.”

“Kara, I didn’t mean—”

What she meant, Kara doesn’t know. She doesn’t stick around to find out.

.

.

.

The next time Kara sees Lena, it’s because she is helping Sam pass out cups of arroz con leche.

It’s nearing eight p.m. and the majority of the dinner foods have been eaten; the only one still working through their plate is Ruby, who’s looking dangerously sleepy. Sam is sitting with her, patiently waiting for her to finish up, and completely ignoring her own food.

Kara joins the line of people waiting to accept a cup from Lena’s hands, but at the very end. That’s why, as she watches Sam, she completely forgets where she is until Lena speaks.

“She’s a great mom,” Lena says, and when Kara turns towards her she sees Lena has been following Kara’s line of sight. “Isn’t she?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Kara says, and it’s the truth; from what she’s seen, Sam would easily give her kid anything. It’s very sweet. “And Ruby’s great too, of course. She’s beaten me twice in _Just Dance_.”

“She beats all of us—it’s her superpower.”

“That’s a relief, I thought I was just old,” Kara jokes. That makes Lena laugh, maybe louder than expected, because she seems startled by her own laughter.

“You really _must_ be miserable, if you’re breaking out all this self-deprecation,” Lena says. “Come on, Kara, what’s eating you?”

Kara bites the inside of her cheek. “It’s…really not a big deal,” she says. “Just—I’m not really a fan of Christmas. It brings up bad memories.”

“Ah,” Lena hums. “Is this about Matt?”

Despite herself, Kara resists the urge to smile; she knows Lena knows his name, and is purposefully messing it up.

“Yeah,” Kara admits. “Kinda sad, huh? That I’m letting him ruin this for me?”

“Not at all,” Lena says. “If it were me, I think I’d be grumpy around Christmas time too.”

“You mean you’re _not_?”

Lena nabs an acorn ornament to throw it at Kara’s shoulder. It bounces harmlessly off, but Kara pretends to be mortally wounded anyway.

“Don’t be a smartass,” Lena says, “or I’m taking your dessert back.”

“Please don’t, it’s my new source of joy,” Kara gasps, hugging her cup to her chest.

“Well, that’s better than the jokes,” Lena allows. She steals a spoonful of Kara’s arroz con leche instead of getting her own, though, so Kara still narrows her eyes in betrayal.

Alex comes up beside them before Kara can feign outrage. She’s carrying a half-emptied tequila bottle and a tray of shots, both of which she presents to Lena.

“Drink up, Luthor,” Alex says. “We’re doing karaoke.”

“Since _when_?” Lena eyes Alex like she’s been asked to commit high treason. “Sam never said anything about singing.”

“I’ve heard it’s a Christmas tradition,” Alex says with a knowing grin, and Lena frowns.

“I regret ever letting you and Sam cross paths,” Lena announces. “I’m _not_ doing it.”

“Yes you are. Ruby’s already excited to see what song you pick,” says Alex innocently. She must know that Ruby is Lena’s weak spot, because immediately after Lena caves.

“Fine, you _dick_ ,” Lena says, snatching a shot off the tray. “But you’re singing too, and I’m recording it for blackmail purposes.”

Alex whoops in victory. Kara gladly accepts the shot her sister passes to her next, and relishes it burn down her throat.

“I’ll sing with you,” Kara offers out of the blue. She’s not sure what it is—the liquid courage of the alcohol, or the way Lena’s skin glows from the Christmas tree lights—but she suddenly doesn’t want to leave Lena’s side just yet.

“You will?” Lena quirks a questioning eyebrow.

“Yeah, why not?” Kara says. “I know all the words to—”

At the same time Alex starts to interject, “As long as you don’t sing—”

“Last Christmas,” they finish together.

Alex throws Kara a withering stare. “No,” she says. “You will not put me through this.”

In contrast, Lena positively lights _up_. “Let’s do it,” she says, and Kara’s not sure what she’s more thrilled about—the fact that she doesn’t have to sing alone, or the fact that she can annoy Alex with the song choice.

Overall, the Christmas song selections range wonderfully. Sam and Ruby duet to “All I Want For Christmas is You”; Alex stumbles through “Run Rudolph Run”; James and Kelly take on “Winter Wonderland.” By the time Kara and Lena take the metaphorical stage, everyone’s happily giggling and red-cheeked.

“How are we doing this?” Lena whispers as the music starts up. “Trading off lines, or just…”

“No, let’s do it all together,” Kara whispers back. Lena gives her an approving nod, and then the lyrics begin to flash on screen.

Lena has a very nice voice; Kara hasn’t heard her sing before, but she thinks she’d like to hear her sing again. Kara knows that Lena teaches Ruby piano, so she must be musical in that sense, but her _voice_ —it’s something else. Quiet, but distinctive, like her Irish accent slips through.

As the song ends, Kara realizes she’s been staring at Lena the whole time. Only knows it, really, when Lena looks away from the screen and meets Kara’s eyes with a shy, relieved kind of smile that Kara doesn’t hesitate to mirror.

For some reason she wants to hug Lena. But that would be weird, and so she doesn’t.

.

.

.

For the remainder of the party Kara hangs out with Lena by the grand piano. Kara keeps her entertained with funny stories about Alex; Lena plays “Für Elise” and laughs at all the appropriate places.

It’s the most time they’ve spent together. Lena is more of Alex’s friend, but Kara is learning so much about Lena tonight—that she learned piano from a private tutor, that she is trying to cut back on her alcohol intake, that she once asked out a girl only to learn the girl was her brother’s new girlfriend.

And, bit by bit, Kara tells more of her story to Lena. Lena knows she and Mike broke up last Christmas, but she doesn’t know the _details_. Namely, that Kara expected him to propose that Christmas Eve, and instead the “big news” he wanted to share was that he was leaving the country to follow a job.

“He’s an asshole,” Lena says before Kara can get another word in. “A complete grade-A asshole.” She is so passionate about Mike’s new title that she misses a few notes of the latest song she’s playing: “It’s Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas.”

“He is,” Kara agrees. She’s migrated to the spot beside Lena on the bench, and their arms brush against each other’s briefly. “And it’s stupid that I miss him.”

“It’s not stupid to _feel_ , Kara,” Lena says quietly. “It means you’re better than he is.”

“Well…to be fair, it doesn’t take much.”

Lena scoffs, then elbows Kara lightly. “I’m trying to be sentimental here,” she says.

“Oh, my bad. Go on,” Kara prompts, resting her chin in her hands and gazing over at Lena expectantly. This gets her an eye roll, but also a smile, so it’s enough.

But then Lena grows somber. And she stops playing altogether. “Can I ask you a question? You don’t have to answer.”

“Of course,” Kara says, and it’s confusing, to watch the way Lena’s mood falter.

“Do you still love him?” All the lightness from Lena’s tone has long vanished; she sounds hesitant, unsure.

Kara doesn’t even have to _ponder_ her reply. “No,” she says. “But I miss the way I used to love him.”

“Mm.” Lena takes this in with a small, understanding nod. “I‘m sorry if it’s weird. That I asked.”

“It’s not,” Kara assures her. She wants to ask why Lena even wondered that, but figures that’s enough heavy conversation for the night. “So we’re supposed to stay up until midnight, huh?”

“That’s the tradition,” Lena says. She starts up the piano again, something elaborate and pretty that Kara can’t recognize.

“Nia’s already failed,” Kara points out, and Lena laughs.

“It wouldn’t be a party without Nia falling asleep,” says Lena fondly. “What time is it?”

Kara casts a glance at her watch. “Ten thirty,” she says. 

“Ruby’s bound to be asleep too,” Lena says. “Maybe Winn, if he’s had too much to drink.”

“Ooh, are we taking bets? I want to put twenty Alex goes down in the next half hour.”

“I’m not betting against a sure thing,” Lena says. “Earn your money elsewhere.”

“Wow, rude.” But Kara is content here, and she stays. She watches Lena play without speaking, and Lena doesn’t say anything either. They just…sit together and appreciate the music. It’s certainly not the highlight of the Christmas party by any means, but Kara’s never felt more at ease.

At eleven they rejoin the others on the couch. Ruby’s fast asleep, her head resting on an equally unconscious Alex’s shoulder. Sam has brought a blanket to drape it over the both of their bodies.

Winn is miraculously awake, and he’s currently trying to explain the logistics of mistletoe to Brainy. In order to demonstrate, he gives James a kiss beneath a sprig (that he makes Kelly hold over their heads).

“That is…quite odd,” Brainy frowns, “and awkward for us to witness.”

“Hey!” Winn, who takes that as an attack on his kissing skills, immediately begins to fight in defense of the mistletoe tradition.

Kelly, still with the sprig in hand, decides to tease Lena by holding it above her head—Lena’s head and Kara’s, actually.

“Get that _away_ from me,” Lena says, batting away Kelly’s hand. She’s blushing; Kara can see it in the way her cheeks and ears tinge pink. 

“Don’t be so rude, Lena. Kara’s right _there_ ,” Kelly mock-whispers. “She’s going to be offended you don’t want to kiss her.”

“I _don’t_ want to—” Lena stops, then glances back at Kara, horrified. “I didn’t mean it like that—obviously I’d like to kiss you. Or, I mean, I wouldn’t be _opposed_ to…” She buries her face in her hands and groans. “Someone put me out of my misery.”

Kelly only begins to make the mistletoe dance. When Lena opens her eyes again, she immediately tries to bat it away once more.

Kara, for her part, is somewhat stricken. Could Lena…? No. No, that wouldn’t be right. They’re friends and Lena could never like her like that. Kara’s still, arguably, heartbroken—and she’s never thought of Lena like that.

But if she _were_ to think of Lena in a romantic sense…it wouldn’t be crazy. Lena is funny, and sweet, and she has a way of smiling that is so soft and pretty Kara could get _lost_ in. It’s easy to imagine a world where Kara kind of maybe _sort of_ …likes the idea of kissing Lena. Objectively. 

A flash completely snaps her out of her head. James has begun to take pictures; he looks back at the one he’s just taken—a snapshot where Kara looks dazed, Lena looks embarrassed, Kelly looks triumphant—and declares it the best one of the night.

Lena promptly stands up. “I’m going to get a drink,” she announces to no one in particular, and then she stalks off.

Kelly winces. “Sorry, Kara,” she says. “I thought she told you already.”

“Told me _what_?” Kara asks. Judging by the way Kelly preemptively shakes her head, she’s not going to get an answer.

.

.

.

Kara doesn’t go find Lena right away.

She tries—goes to the kitchen to see if Lena has indeed poured herself a new drink. But the open door to the patio suggests otherwise; Kara nearly steps out there before she forces herself to conceptualize what Lena must be feeling.

“Kara?” Out of everyone at the party, Sam is the last person Kara expected to follow her. “Hey.”

“Oh, hey,” Kara says, immediately beginning to pretend to search for something. “I was just looking for a…cup,” she finishes lamely, picking up a stack of plastic cups that have been in plain sight.

Sam merely smiles, apologetic but friendly. “It’s okay,” she says. “I know it’s not my place, but I just…wanted to make sure you understand something.”

“About…Lena?”

“No,” Sam says, plain and simple. “I want to make sure you know that we’re all friends here. And whatever happens tonight…I’m glad you came. I’m glad I met you.”

“I’m—” Kara pauses, shakes her head disbelievingly. “ _I’m_ glad I got to meet you. Thank you, for, y’know…loving my sister. I know that must be hard.”

Sam laughs. “You two are very alike,” she marvels, before she casts a knowing glance at the ajar patio door. “So…” she adds mischievously. “Can I help you find anything else?”

Kara sucks in a deep breath. “No,” she says. “I think I’m…going to be okay right now.”

“That’s good to hear,” Sam says. She has an understanding glint in her eye, one that’s hopeful—as hopeful as Kara thinks she might feel.

The next step is, inevitably, that Kara takes a leap of faith.

The snow in the backyard is untouched. It must have snowed in the past hour, because all traces of an excitable child’s day out in the snow have vanished—save for a small snowman, half-buried in the grass. Lena is leaning against the wall, still close enough to the warmth of the house not to freeze; when she sees Kara, she shoves her hands in her pockets and says,

“I didn’t mean to make this awkward.”

Kara joins her against the wall, but far enough so they’re in no danger of touching. “I’m still not sure what _this_ is,” she says.

Lena bites her lip. “Nothing,” she says. “I’m being insensitive tonight—I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Kara tells her. “Please.”

Lena goes quiet. “I don’t know what you want me to say, then.”

“You could…explain,” Kara suggests lightly. “If you want.”

“Kara—don’t ask that of me,” Lena pleads. “I can’t even look at you right now, much less explain.”

“Why can’t you look at me?” Kara pushes off the wall, positioning herself right across from Lena. “It’s _me_ , Lena. The girl you threatened to sue the first time we met because I almost broke your arm when I tackled you.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Lena’s face is blank, impassive. Like she’s taking great caution not to let her emotions get the best of her.

“The point is you _know_ me,” Kara says. “And you’re never afraid to tell me what you’re feeling.”

“It’s not that _easy_.”

“Then tell me how I can _make_ it easy,” Kara stresses. “Because it’s driving me crazy wondering how you really feel about me.”

At that, Lena’s expression hardens. “Then you already know.”

“I don’t! I’m a complete loss, Lena,” Kara groans. “Kelly said—she said you had to tell me something. But she won’t tell me what.”

Lena glances past her briefly, as though it really _is_ a monumental task to look at Kara. “Do you remember,” she says suddenly, “how you drove me home once when I was really drunk? Alex told me I threw up in your backseat, but you never complained. And the next time I got shitfaced, you let me do the exact same thing.”

“Yeah, I remember,” says Kara, bewildered. “But what does that have to do with anything?”

Lena ignores the question. “And that time,” she says, “when my date stood me up, I accidentally texted you instead of Alex to come save me. You _did_ , and didn’t even tell Alex about it.”

“What—”

“I didn’t _want_ to like you,” Lena finishes at last, her voice barely a whisper. “Everything about it was doomed. You’re my friend’s sister. You’re _unavailable_. But telling that to my heart when you do such stupid, thoughtful things never works.”

Kara swallows a lump in her throat that has come out of nowhere. “You’ve liked me since then?” she says. “But that means you’ve liked me since…”

_Since last Christmas._

Lena smiles, sadly. “I know,” she says softly. “Now you see why I could never tell you.”

“You could’ve told me,” Kara says. When Lena only gazes at her questioningly, Kara presses on: “Do you know how long I’ve been—I don’t know, _lost_? Just wallowing? I’ve never felt like that around you. I guess I never even _noticed_ it before tonight.”

“What are you trying to say?” Lena is guarded, and rightfully so; Kara can’t even explain her own feelings to _herself_ right now.

“I’m trying to say I like you, too,” Kara whispers. She doesn’t move an inch, doesn’t even _breathe_ , as Lena watches her in complete and utter silence.

Finally Lena says, “What changed?” in a tone that’s slightly suspicious. “You were miserable tonight missing your ex.”

“Not _him_ ,” Kara interjects quickly. “Just the idea of him.”

“You also have been rather mope-y all night.”

“Because of the _holiday_ , not the company,” Kara explains. “Lena, I won’t lie—before tonight I never even considered the fact that I might like you like that. But it makes _sense_. The way I’ve always felt around you is nothing new. I’ve just…changed my viewpoint a little.”

Lena hesitantly places a hand on Kara’s shoulder, her fingers curling around her collar. “We’re going to miss the birth of Jesus,” she says, which is—not at all the reaction Kara was expecting.

“Uh…is he expected to come _soon_ , or…”

“The metaphorical birth of Jesus,” Lena corrects, as if that sheds any more light on the subject. “So we should probably hurry up and kiss each other before we miss it.”

“Right. Because that would be a—bad thing? To miss it?” Kara knows she must be grinning _way_ too hard right now, but Lena doesn’t seem to care; her eyes are glued on Kara’s lips, and she is beginning to smile too, and nothing else really matters.

In the end it’s hard to tell who kisses who first—just that it’s _everything_. Lena’s hands are cold when they lock behind Kara’s neck, and Kara hesitates for too long before she rests her palms against the low of Lena’s knitted sweater, but it’s perfect. Cold, chaste, and hurried—but perfect.

But there is one thing that still bothers Kara, though, and she has to ask: “Why is someone giving birth right _now_?”

Lena bursts out into giggles, pressing her cold nose against Kara’s collarbone. They stay out there for at least another ten minutes, beaming at each other and refusing to let each other go, before Ruby comes knocking at the door and shouts that it’s almost midnight.

When the clock strikes twelve Sam completes her nativity scene by gently placing a resin baby Jesus onto a straw bed, and Kara is grateful to witness it—grateful that this Christmas is full of nothing but good memories. _Great_ memories.

(Maybe she’s coming _around_ to the holiday—even if it’s kind of weird.)


End file.
